


White Knight/Priestess

by Cryerrytiem



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alternative Lifestyles, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Co-workers, Dogs, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Lawyers, Money, New York, Romance, Workplace, dilemma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 00:39:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11429562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryerrytiem/pseuds/Cryerrytiem
Summary: A Harvey Specter/Female OC - a childhood friend appears at Pearson Hardman just before Jessica's takeover. Two years later, they've rekindled their childhood friendship, but it gets complicated in adulthood.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Be patient with me, this is a new idea!!

When she was seven, Harvey had chased away the three boys who’d prodded her with sticks that in memory were sharper than they had been. 

When she was thirteen, Harvey had helped her when she’d slipped at the poolside, head gashed and blood dripping slowly past his blue t-shirt wadded up against her temple as he called for his dad, though recently his demeanor was sadder, and his tone cooler. 

When she was fifteen, Harvey had brought her ice-cream to soothe a broken heart, her first and in her dramatic mind of the time, her last love. When he talked of love, his eyes grew angry, and she remembered wondering why, until she’d asked her mother who explained Lily Specter. 

She and Harvey Specter had been friends for as long as she could remember. Every birthday, every Thanksgiving, Christmas or general family dinner worth remembering, he and his family had been there. Their fathers were friends from high school, and even though Lily had never fitted in with the two, her mother had been, when the two friends came together, like a mother to them – quelling rebellious moods, providing food when they talked for hours, and reminding them they had lives that continued in the morning after beer number four. 

Harvey’s communication dropped a while after her eighteenth birthday. They were three years apart in age, so she wasn’t all that surprised by a newly twenty-one Harvey dropping off the grid. They exchanged emails occasionally, though more time passed between each of his as the year went on. When she finished Harvard, she still often thought of Harvey, a significant figure in her mind, but put the thought aside and instead when on to do her LSATs and go through Harvard Law, graduating fourth in her class, a respectable rank. 

Soon after, she was poached by then Pearson Hardman and, two years later, in he walked, though considerably more handsome with age. 

Harvey Specter. Blond hair. Clear eyes. Tall and athletic. A powerful stance. A clean suit. A new smile that told you he knew you and therefore knew he was your better. Lines that framed his eyes – stress? Senior associate – she’d read his door. The name hadn’t stuck. Crap. 

He hadn’t seen her yet – she looked no different. The same hair, golden brown, in the same style which is to say, as it fell, no styling required. The same round face, almond eyes that were still dark in the light. Her figure was the most different – she had a woman’s body now, curvaceous. All around ordinary. She already felt out of place at Hardman 

Specter, surrounded by beautiful women and men, dressed well, made up and seemingly perfect. One woman had caught her eye especially, a redhead named Donna, and she wished for an instant that she could look like that. 

She looked down at herself – she wasn’t badly dressed. A perfectly good dress that accentuated her small waist and large hips and chest. True, her stomach wasn’t flat, and was visable through the fold of her dress, but she didn’t care – it is just how people look, she reminded herself. The fabric was a beautiful shade of autumn orange, and had delicate hemming in gold thread, which had been the initial reason it’d caught her eye – plus the sale tag. It was autumn, she reminded herself, and she fit right in. 

He saw her then, and at first her face didn’t register. Something about that hurt. His eyes had glanced over her and he’d scoffed (she could tell by the quick rise and fall of his chest that didn’t quite match his breath), probably thinking she was any other associate at the law firm. Then his mind caught up with itself, and he stopped dead in his tracks. 

This was the last thing either of them had expected. 

His steps were slow at first, but they quickened gradually. He stopped too far away, a good two feet between them. He still hadn’t processed it – though his look wasn’t shock, more of wonder and – dare she see it? Guilt. 

His mouth opened, and then closed again as if his words weren’t quite right. He settled into his position more and sighed, half in defeat and half in amusement. Hands in his pockets, his eyes finally settled on her. “Olivia,” he smiled slightly, as if not wanting anyone to see, “welcome to Pearson Hardman.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little longer, but kind of quieter? 
> 
> Leave feedback!

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” Harvey laughed across from her, a glass in hand and record spinning in place as soft jazz poured into the room. 

She shook her head, a mirror of him – glass in hand and laugher on her lips. “You’re a dick, Harvey, don’t act like you don’t know it.” Olivia slouched into his office chair, a pet peeve of his that was waived for his childhood friend. “Junior Partner, and still celebrating with little old me – it’s kind of tragic. Where’s Donna tonight?” 

Two years had passed. Hardman was gone. Harvey was in. She was now senior associate – Harvey’s associate, as she unfortunately was known. Yes, she was his associate, but their shared history wasn’t a secret – not around lawyers whose jobs it was to know everything about everyone. She and Donna were close friends, and her relationship with Harvey had returned much to its former glory – his little sister who needed protecting, though she often proved this wrong in court and the office alike.   
“Theatre,” he rolled his eyes, finishing the last of his drink in one swoop. “It’s her way of celebrating, though I prefer mine.” 

Her phone buzzed at her hip, and she picked it up. ‘Off out, dogs fed, message Hayley,’ her text read. She put the phone down, and as she looked up, Harvey was suddenly sat opposite, looking at her. “Dawson,” she smiled awkwardly so he wouldn’t pursue the subject. 

Olivia was not a secretive person, but life was private, especially from Harvey. Harvey was work, but he was also her history, and the combination of obligations made her fear his reaction to finding out she shared what could be known as the world’s smallest apartment with two other people, and three dogs she was fostering before they were adopted into new homes. Senior associate wage was good but things added up – the dogs were easily three hundred dollars a month alone, and rent, utilities and groceries ate up much of her remaining pay. Harvey would undoubtedly white knight his way into the situation if he knew, and she didn’t want his money or his help – she was just fine, thank you very much. 

“Are you sure you two aren’t dating?” Harvey teased, standing to find his coat. She took the hint and stood herself, slinging her bag over her arm. “Gay,” she repeated for him, “he’s gay.” No one could irritate like Harvey Specter. 

They finally got down to the lobby after what felt like an eternity of nonsense talk in the elevator. They were old friends within the confine of the building, but after leaving, the line went dead. If she were honest, it made her sad to think that Harvey was more closed off than she’d ever seen him; was this his family history festering, or something more she often wondered.

New York glowed in the darkness, though her watch only read 8pm. “It’s early,” she said on impulse as he hailed her a taxi, “Are you sure you don’t want to grab something to eat?” 

Harvey smiled and began to decline but stopped himself. This behaviour was new. Was it the whiskey? The recent promotion? Who knew. His head tilted slightly, as if he was taking a risk and balancing it in his mind. “Sure, surprise me,” he said, holding the door for her to slide into the cab first. 

Olivia was in shock. Her mind stumbled over various destinations that would be suitable for Harvey’s taste. She was not prepared for him to agree to this. Her bag spilled out onto the floor of the car. 

“Where to?” the driver asked, the tiredness in his voice obvious. Harvey began but she cut him off accidentally, a destination spewing out of her mouth. The address was obviously alien to him, but the driver knew and began the journey. 

Harvey questioned her the whole way, but in a mixture of amusement and spite she gave nothing away. They pulled up on the corner of a quiet street not too far from her home, and Harvey paid the fare, refusing to allow her to. The place she’d had in mind was glowing as it always did – a restaurant situated in the corner of a building that jutted out onto the street. Large doors were open the length of the restaurant which made it look much bigger than it was; there was a candle on every bistro table. She smiled and walked forward. “It doesn’t have a sign…” Harvey said, and she could imagine him shaking his head. “Doesn’t need one – but they’ll be getting one soon. The original was torn down by a rival; I helped with their legal argument. On my own time, no billing, before you start.” 

“Gemeli’s, best Italian this side of Italy,” she turned her head to smile at him encouragingly before slipping into one of the outside chairs. The air was warm. Why waste a nice night? In the corner of her eye she spotted a waiter walking toward them – she recognised him easily. “Liv!” Harvey raised a brow at his familiar tone, but she gave their waiter a look that was easily understood that he should keep his actual identity as the third roommate, Michel, a secret.

“Cosy,” Harvey commented, his tone sour all of a sudden. She didn’t get it, but brushed it off. “Olivia’s a regular, her cooking is horrible,” Michel’s easily missed soft accent rang truer as he spoke, French but obviously having lived in America most of his life. “A Frenchman working for an Italian restaurant amuses me, what can I say,” she laughed trying to lighten the mood. 

“We’ll have a bottle of Pinot Grigio, two glasses, water for the table and a Macallan 18 for me,” Harvey set down the wine list having already barely looking at it. Olivia was mad at his callous tone but only a tiny part impressed he’d remembered her wine preference. “I’m sorry, sir,” his voice soured to match, though only for a moment, “but we don’t stock that whiskey-““I’m sure you do! I know I’ve seen it,” Olivia jumped in, and literally up, taking Michel by the arm, and offering Harvey an apologetic smile. 

“What are you doing?” Michel hissed as they reached the bar. The inside of the restaurant was busier than the outside, but it was quiet enough for bartenders to polish glasses and waiters to hide in the kitchen. “Hiding you – I will explain later.” Olivia, quite at home walked around the bar, nodding at Miles, an older man who worked the bar as she bent to grab a bottle of whiskey, not quite Macallan, but one of his lesser favourites that she knew would do if she delivered it. “He’ll tip well, at least,” Michel noted, not one to hold a grudge. ‘Thank you,’ she mouthed as she walked away, turning to offer a smile to Harvey attempting to calm his mood. 

“Not Macallan, but still one on your list of appropriate drinks,” she set it down in front of him, though he immediately swallowed it down. “Is that your boyfriend?” He asked, though she knew he didn’t believe it for a moment. “Actually, he’s Dawson’s boyfriend,” she shrugged off her jacket, the bareness of her arms nice in the warm city air. Michel and Dawson were a couple that she admired; there was a balance between sassy, confident and uncompromising Michel and soft Dawson, who resembled a puppy in his attitude – kind and easily led. Though Michel was difficult, they never faltered in their affection, even when mid-argument. 

“So, what’s good here?” He was obviously settled with that information. “This is good,” she pointed out a few options to him, and was glad he didn’t turn his attention to starters, which were something she didn’t enjoy, and before she knew it, the atmosphere had settled and they were talking easily once more. 

Michel brought over the wine and water not too long after, knowing he’d eyed the situation, and poured them both glasses. “Have you decided on what you’d like to order?” He asked, though his interest in them both was too keen and therefore, too easy to notice.

“We’ll skip starters,” Harvey began, “I’ll get the montradini, and,” he looked over at Olivia. “The usual, thank you, Michel,” she offered him her best grateful smile. He took their menus, before informing the pair that it wouldn’t take too long. 

“So, a French man walks into a bar,” Harvey began a joke, and Olivia barely managed to swallow the wine in her mouth before she began to laugh.


End file.
